A Flair for the Dramatic
by KissKissBiteBite
Summary: Peter loved the spotlight. Always has and always will. She, on the other hand, loved to remain nameless and faceless. She wanted to escape and disappear. But Peter had other plans for her and everyone knows that Peter always gets his way. Peter Hale/OC
1. Chapter 1

Another day had passed at Beacon Hills High School. And another day closer to graduation for Hazel Whittemore.

School had only started today and she still couldn't wait. For more reason than one.

She was shoving her AP books into her locker when her two least favorite people walked up behind her.

"So, Hazel, are you 18 yet?"

"No. And that question gets creepier every time you ask it, Greenberg. And god, when are you going to graduate? High school's only supposed to take four years, you know."

"I'm taking a little extra time to make sure I get to see you grow up."

"It does seem like you're filling out quite nicely," Nick Holloway said with a sneer.

Hazel gagged. "That's the effect you have on me. I want to throw up." She was impressed with herself. Greenberg and Holloway had always tormented her, ever since they had spotted her in her freshmen year. She had heard them call it their "little game". But Holloway had always been the leader in that game. He had always been a few steps ahead of Greenberg. Touching was his favorite part of the game while Greenberg's was sexual innuendos—Hazel preferred the innuendos.

"We could always test your gag reflex after practice-"

"If you finish that sentence I will take you to the police station and have you brought up on sexual harassment charges. Do you understand?"

Nick took a few steps back and held his hands up in a surrendering motion. "We'll continue this conversation later." They started to walk away.

"No, we won't!" She yelled at his retreating form before sighing and turning back to her locker. Hazel jumped when a large hand grabbed her shoulder. "What the hell!"

"Jeez, sorry," Danny said before taking a step back, instantly taking his hand off of her shoulder. "I was just gonna make sure you were doing all right. I saw Greenberg skulking around-"

Hazel smiled and leaned her forehead against Danny's shoulder. "Sorry. Sorry, Danny. Greenberg doesn't exactly soothe my already-frayed nerves."

Danny just smiled and tugged on the ends of her reddish blonde hair. "Don't worry about it. Just wanted to make sure you're doing all right. And, have you seen Jackson?"

"Oh, what has my little brother done this time?" She asked, finally looking up at him.

"He has all of my lacrosse gear in his bag and he isn't in the locker room yet and practice starts soon."

"He's probably fooling around with Lydia in the backseat of his car. He should be in here any minute..." She leaned back and looked around Danny just in time to see Jackson walk in. His head was held high and he was strutting...as usual. "See? I told you."

"You're scary good with that sort of thing." Danny laughed.

"Thanks. Are you still coming over for dinner tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be there." Danny smiled and joined Jackson down the hallway.

Her cell phone rang as she shut her locker, signaling a new text message.

_Are you still volunteering with me today?_

It was from her friend, Samantha. Hazel had to roll her eyes, it had been her idea to volunteer at the long term care facility near the hospital. Hazel had been the one volunteering at the facility since her freshmen year. It had started off as a school project but she just kept going and no one at the facility seemed to be able to tell her to stop coming.

_Yeah. I'm leaving now._

It only took her a few minutes to get to the facility in her Volvo S60.

Samantha was waiting in the lobby, twiddling her thumbs. Her brunette hair was up in a bun which left a few strands to hang around her face. She smiled when she saw hazel.

"Hey! You made it."

"Yup. Let's check in. And are we still meeting for smoothies afterwards?"

"Of course." Samantha smiled. "I have a strawberry banana with extra protein powder calling my name."

Mrs. Mulroney, the older receptionist smiled at the familiar faces. "Hello, ladies. I'm so happy you could make it again today. Here are you patients for the day." Mrs. Mulroney handed them each a small slip of paper and they left, going down separate hallways.

"All right," Hazel said to herself as she looked over her paper. "Peter Hale: burn victim. Unresponsive. Needs patience."

Hazel sighed. She hated being stuck with unresponsive patients. Usually she could at least carry a conversation, make them feel like there was someone there specifically for them—even if it was just for half an hour. She pushed open the designated door and tried to keep herself from sighing again. A man sat in a wheelchair, staring out of the window.

"Hello, Mister Hale. My name is Hazel. I'm here to keep you company for a little bit today." She pulled up a chair next to his and stared out of the same window, watching the trees sway in the light fall breeze.

Half an hour later, nothing else had been said between them.

The paper had said patience and patience equated silence in Hazel's mind.

"I like the Fall. I think it's calming. My friend Samantha thinks it is the worst season—she says everything is dying. I don't know. I think there's something really beautiful about it."

She sighed and rubbed her face. It was quiet again in the small room.

Samantha appeared a few minutes later.

"Haze, c'mon. Time to go."

Hazel stood and looked at Peter after putting her chair away.

"It was nice to meet you, Mister Hale."

And then she walked away.

* * *

She was assigned to Peter's room again a week later and again the next week and again the week after that.

The same routine happened. She would comment on the weather and then be left in silence.

There was something appealing in his presence for Hazel.

There wasn't any sort of obligation with him to keep the conversation going. Patience is what the sheet called for and that was what she was giving him. She could wait for him to talk. But even if he didn't, that would be okay too.

But, she did find it strange that she was being assigned to Hale's room so frequently.

But the fourth week into school, something changed.

Once again, she was at her locker after the last bell, carefully placing her books into their designated slots when Holloway slid up behind her and grabbed her around the waist. His fingers were dangerously low.

And she froze. Her hand was still lingering over her European History book.

"Hey, babe." His breathe instantly made her skin sticky. "Are you coming to cheer me on tonight?"

"No. I have a competition to get ready for on Saturday." Her voice was tight. And she still couldn't move.

"Hey, Holloway! Get your hands off of her."

They both turned to see Jackson at the end of the hallway, holding his lacrosse stick.

Holloway took a few steps back and disappeared down a different hallway.

Jackson quickly stepped up to his sister's side. He froze right before putting a hand on her shoulder but eventually let his hand rest over the fabric covering her arm.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks for that." She smiled and squeezed his other hand. "Have fun at practice."

Hazel started to walk away when Jackson grabbed her hand.

"C'mon. You know you can tell me if something's wrong, right?"

"Of course, Jack-Jack."

The hints of a smile curled the corners of his lips at the sound of his old nickname.

"I've got to go. I'm volunteering again before practice."

Jackson poked her forehead with a smile. "Drive safe. And I'll check Holloway extra hard for you today."

She just laughed and walked away.

But she hadn't realized that she was crying until Mrs. Mulroney handed her a tissue when she approached the front desk.

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Oh," Hazel said, wiping her cheeks, "I'll be fine. Just some school stuff."

"You don't have to come in today."

"Oh no, this will be good for me."

"Okay, dear. Well, Mister Hale's nurse requested that you visit him again. She says he's been responding well to your visits. I hope you don't mind."

"No, that'll be great." And then she walked back to the familiar room but didn't pull up a chair next to his this time.  
"Well, if you're not going to talk, I'll do all the talking. I hope you don't mind. Maybe you can get to know me while you're thinking about letting me know anything about you. And I'm sorry, but I've had a really bad day and I just need to talk to someone." She smiled to herself. "I'm adopted. Apparently, my biological parents died in this really awful car accident. I was in the backseat when they went off the road and they were decapitated by a farmer's electric fence lining. It took them hours to find me. But I was adopted by this really nice family—but it took them forever to tell me. But I should've figured it out on my own. Neither of them has red hair and I just don't look anything like them. But they've been good to me and my little brother is great. But sometimes I think that I'm really alone. Samantha—you've met her, she was the one who came in during our first meeting—just thinks that I'm going through this pathetic teenage emotional rollercoaster. But I've always felt this way. I think I'll be okay though. I want to be alone most of the time—I'm gonna be a librarian one day. Alone with books and books and books. And everything would be perfect if that asshole, Holloway, would stop touching me. God, he just gets too close. I just wish someone would teach him a lesson. Just one. It isn't okay for him to do that to me. You know? Of course you don't know. I saw pictures of you when you were younger. Someone set them up on your bedside table. You were probably that guy who got every girl he wanted. And now...now you're listening to some teenage girl whine about how sad her life is." Hazel paused and breathed deeply through her nose. "Hm, I feel a lot better. Thank you for listening." She smiled. "Now, I will continue to wait patiently for you to talk."

She pulled up her usual seat and stared out the same window.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ho-kay, so. I want to let you guys know that I am taking a bit of creative liberty in this story. I mean, it is like all of a sudden, Peter can walk and talk in the show. So...why couldn't it happen earlier...only in secret? Let me know what you think when we get to that part of the story...yeah.**

**Cheers!**

* * *

Hazel was a competitive dressage and show jump rider. Her parents had given Hazel her first horse for her tenth birthday and she was lost ever since. It was a solo sport, largely. She only had to talk to the people who owned the stables and maybe a few other people who set up the jumps. It gave her a strange sort of confidence. Well, she did have a wall full of trophies and ribbons for an added boost of self-worth. Sometimes she trained with the Olympic teams over the summer breaks. They had extended an offer to her but the Whittemores made her turn it down so she could continue to focus on her academics. Hazel didn't blame her adoptive parents; they knew how much she loved school.

So, she just competed at the state and national level when it didn't interfere with exams or school and left it at that.

Today, she was taking care of her horses, Eurydice and Persephone, brushing them and giving them the treats her trainer always frowned upon. Usually, Mister Evans, her horses' caretaker, would brush them and everything else, but once a week, Hazel liked to do it herself.

"How're my babies doing, huh?" She asked as she continued to brush them. The large Hanoverians both nudged her shoulders. "I missed you too."

Hazel finished brushing them and gave them each another sugar cube before kissing their noses. It was growing dark outside and her parents expected her to be home in time for dinner.

"You'll kiss a horse but you won't let me get near you?"

"What're you doing here?" Hazel asked, gripping the brush tighter. She didn't turn to look at him. Eurydice let out a whine and stamped her front two hooves, sensing Hazel's discomfort.

"My family keeps horses here too. They're not Hanoverians—they're a much more western breed. Better in my opinion."

"I guess that's your opinion." She placed a hand over Persephone's neck after she nudged Hazel's shoulder. "I have to go. My family is waiting for me." She put the brush in the small compartment near the front of the stable and tried to step around Holloway but he grabbed her arm and pushed her against the nearest wall. "Let go of me right now." He pressed his body against hers.

"Aw, gotten a little braver since last time, eh?"

"I said, let go of me."

Holloway leaned closer to her, his nose brushing against her cheek. "God, even when you reek of horses I find you incredibly sexy."

"Please-"

He slid a hand down her side and continued to breathe in her scent. "Say it again."

"Wh-what?"

"Please. Say please again."

"No," she said. Heavy heartbeats were hurting her head. Bile was starting to rise in her throat. "Get off me." But her voice was soft but choked with unshed tears. It was weak.

"I believe the lady said to leave her alone."

Holloway turned to see who was talking but was quickly knocked back onto his ass by Hazel's rescuer. "What the hell-"

Hazel just ran. She ran all the way to her car but turned back just in time to catch a glimpse of a black coat and a head of brown hair.

* * *

"Honey, take a shower before dinner. You smell like the stables." Her mom, Christine, said with a smile. "The noodles aren't ready yet anyway."

"Right, of course." Hazel managed to smile then sprinted up the stairs and into her room. Quickly shedding clothes, she stepped into her personal bathroom. The water was still cold when she stepped under the water of her shower. She needed the chill. It was like she was able to freeze Holloway's touch off of her skin.

A choked sob escaped her and crumpled to the ground just as she rinsed the shampoo from her long hair. She felt dirty, unclean.

The water went from cold to scalding to cold again just as she sat in the corner of her shower, her knees pulled to her chest. Soap suds were still lining her skin.

Someone knocked at her bathroom door. "Honey? Are you all right? You've been in there for forty-five minutes. Your dinner is getting cold."

"I'm fine, mom. I'll be out in a sec. Sorry to keep you waiting!" Hazel was impressed that she could keep her voice level but she quickly finished the rest of her shower routine and slipped into her pajamas before going downstairs to the dining room. Her dad kissed her temple as she sat down. "Good day at school?"

"Yeah. Just a little uneventful," she said with a smile.

* * *

It was another week before she was placed back in Peter's room.

"Good afternoon, Mister Hale," she said, her voice subdued.

Hazel sat next to him in complete silence. She didn't comment about the weather or rant about her day.

Just silence.

But her time quickly slipped away and she stood from her chair and started walking toward the door.

"Come back again."

Hazel froze. "Mister Hale?"

"Come back."

"Okay..."

And she did as she was told. But it helped that Mrs. Mulroney had also given her yet another assignment to see Hale.

"So...um, you asked to see me?" She asked, making sure to close the door after entering his room.

"Sit." He didn't move, she figured he was still immobile, but she knew he was talking about the chair already placed by his. Hazel sat by him and just looked out the window like she usually did. Fear and excitement started to pool in her stomach and she didn't know which one to act on.

"Okay."

"You're scared," he said without a hint of emotion in his voice.

"You betcha."

"Why?"

"I have no idea."

Silence crept back into the room.

"Why are you suddenly speaking to me? Why now?"

"I have my reasons."

"Now that you're talking to me you choose to use riddles?"

He was quiet again.

"Is there a reason why you asked me to be here today?" She asked.

"I enjoy your company."

"Thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Another long stretch of silence pervaded the room.

"Was it you?" She asked.

"Was what me?"

"I thought I saw you...the other day. At the stables, was it you?"

"I am in a wheelchair."

Her blush intensified. "R-right. Sorry."

"You have perfect skin. You shouldn't mar it with a blush."

And yet her blush intensified. She hadn't realized that he had been looking at her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! Sorry for the delay in updating. My job and school have really destroyed any sort of creativity I had for this story but I am getting it back and I will try to update every weekend. This chapter is a little strange and short but it will pay off in later chapters...I promise! Thank you to everyone who has read/favorite-d/reviewed and followed!**

* * *

It went on for weeks. Hazel would visit Peter and he wouldn't actually answer any of her questions.

But he would make her laugh. He, as Samantha would say, was sassy. He was always filled with some sort of sarcastic remark or offhanded snarky comment. Hazel was worried about the fascination she had with his burn.

She had accidentally touched his hand a few weeks ago, feeling the cool and slick flesh under the pads of her fingers and she had wanted to know if his face felt the same. She found herself constantly fighting the urge to place a hand on either side of his face and just feel.

She was secretly enjoying every moment she spent in that room. But she never stayed longer that her usual time.

Just an hour.

"What's up with you? You're happier than usual." Samantha asked at their usual table in the cafeteria.

"I don't know, really. I'm just happy."

"Does this newfound happiness have to do with a boy?"

Hazel tried to hold back her blush but still felt warmth flood her cheeks. "No. I'm just happy. Things are just going really well for me for some strange, inexplicable reason."

"Really? Because I'm looking at Holloway who seems to be undressing you with his eyes from across the cafeteria."

Hazel had never told Samantha about her issues with Greenberg or Holloway. She was ashamed of them. And Samantha, being the ever-vapid person that she was, wouldn't understand. At least, that's what Hazel told herself. But Hazel knew it was probably because she liked keeping some things to herself.

"He's, uh, not my type."

"That's too bad. He's cute. Black hair, green eyes, tan skin, and muscles to boot. Yummy. If you don't want him, can I have him?"

"Um, I've heard he's kind of a douche."

"Yes, definitely my type." Samantha laughed.

Hazel didn't say anything.

"Do you have any plans for this afternoon?" Samantha ask.

"Well, it is Tuesday so, I'm volunteering and then I'm going out on a ride. Why?"

"Ugh. You're volunteering again? I thought you already did all the hours you needed to do for your social studies extra credit project."

"I did. But I've been volunteering there since freshmen year. I'm not just gonna stop now." Hazel shrugged.

Samantha pouted before chomping on a carrot stick. "Whatever."

"Sorry."

"It's fine."

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay if I go for Holloway?"

"I'm telling you, he's bad news." Hazel shook her head, trying to keep her voice even.

"Maybe for you. But I know how to handle boys." Samantha laughed.

Hazel just frowned and chewed on her celery stick.

* * *

"You smell like horses," Peter said before she even closed the door.

"Sorry, I had to put my gear on before I came to visit. I've told you about my horses, right?" She asked as she settled into her usual chair.

"Yes...but I don't think I've ever smelled them on you."

Hazel pulled her jersey up to her nose and sniffed. To her, it smelled like her perfume—jasmine, amber wood, and musk—and not of horses. But why was she wearing perfume anyway? She looked over at Peter and kept the urge to run her fingers over his burn to herself.

"Sorry. I can, um, leave if you want."

"No, stay. The smell is not unpleasant. I can still smell your perfume."

"Oh."

The silence that followed was only interrupted by Hazel's phone going off.

_Your horses got out. Running wild. Need help._

"Dammit. I've got to go. My horses got out." She stood up and grabbed her purse. "I'm sorry, Mister Hale."

"Will you come back next week?"

"Of course," she said, trying to fight a smile. "I can't promise I'll be assigned to you though. Mrs. Mulroney seems to think my visits should be spaced out throughout the facility a little more. She said because you're making such progress over a short period of time, she's worried that it might regress." A small smile crept up her face. "I wouldn't want that, Mister Hale."

"I don't think I'll regress."

Hazel didn't say anything but adjusted her purse over her shoulder. "I should go."

"Come back tomorrow."

"Mister Hale?"

"Tomorrow."

"I usually only come once a week."

"But you'll come tomorrow."

"...okay." She didn't know why she said it. Maybe she should have argued more, told him about how she was supposed to meet Samantha for smoothies again. Something. Maybe she should have told him something. But she didn't. She just agreed.

And then she left.

* * *

After wrangling the horses, Hazel went home and took another shower. Her parents had another late night at the office and Jackson was in his room. Thoughts of Peter crept up into Hazel's mind and she tried to brush it away.

She knew it would never work. He was confined to a wheelchair and more than a decade older than her and she was hellbent on getting out of this town.

But that didn't mean should couldn't talk with him, right? And take pleasure in his company? Maybe?

Hazel crawled into bed after toweling off but sleep didn't come easily. She blamed it on the thumping sounds she heard coming from Jackson's room. After listening to it for a few more minutes, Hazel had had enough and stepped out into the hallway but saw someone dart around the corner.

"L-Lydia?" Hazel asked, squinting her eyes.

Lydia jumped and turned. "Oh my god, you scared me. You don't make any noise when you're walking. Do you know that?" She asked in a hushed whisper.

Hazel turned at the sound of a door opening. She grabbed Lydia's hand and they sprinted (as quietly as possible) down the hall to Hazel's room. "Pretend to comfort me!"

"What?" Lydia asked as Hazel made them both sit on her unmade bed.

"Pretend!" Hazel started crying and leaned her head on Lydia's shoulder. "Why? Why did he have to say that to me?" She started to sniffle. "I liked him so much!"

Her door opened and Hazel's dad stood in the doorway. "I heard a noise from Jackson's room. I guess it was you." He cleared his throat. "Are you all right, Hazel? And what is Lydia doing here?"

Hazel leaned up and dramatically wiped her cheeks before she grasped Lydia's hand and held it in her lap.

"Lydia's been such a good friend. Bobby broke up with me and she's helping me through it all. And he did it through a text, Dad! _A text!_ Who does that?"

Her dad's cheeks lit up and he suddenly found the ceiling very interesting. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I-I didn't even know you were dating any one. But it was really nice of Lydia to come over for you. But, maybe she should ask next time, okay?"

Hazel just sobbed and nodded. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "You let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay."

He just nodded and walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Hazel sighed and stood up, disengaging from Lydia. "Be careful next time, okay? You seem like a really nice girl—I don't know why you're dumbing yourself down for him but that's beside the point." Of course Hazel knew about Lydia. She had been the teaching assistant for Harris' Chemistry class and knew how smart Lydia was. "I know how much you mean to him and how much he means to you. Please don't screw it up by sneaking in with your spare key when our parents are actually at home. And don't let him make you leave out the window again."

"You saw that?"

"I saw that."

Lydia stood up and nodded before grabbing Hazel in a hug. "Thank you. I owe a dress."

Hazel just laughed and hugged her back. "Sure. We can go shopping. Next week? Thursday?"

Lydia beamed. "Perfect. You're perfect. And thank you again. I really owe you."

* * *

"I think Mrs. Mulroney is scared of you," Hazel said with a laugh as she settled into her usual chair in Peter's room.

"Why?"

"Her eyes got all big and she just said, "Mister Hale requested to see you again" and she was just all sorts of shaky." Hazel shrugged. "Whatever, she's always been a bit odd."

Peter didn't say anything.

"So, have you made any other progress?"

"I have been wanting to try something," Peter said, turning his head to look at Hazel. A half smirk pulled up the corner of his lips and she felt her heart thud angrily against her rib cage for a moment. She gulped. She tried not to blush. The burn covering half his face didn't make her cringe but she tried not to look at it. Once again, she curled her fingers into her palm to keep herself from touching his face.

"Can I help you with it?" She asked.

"Whatever you do, don't tell anyone."

"Wha-" Her question stopped in her throat when Peter rose from his chair on unsteady legs.


	4. Chapter 4

**A wild update appears! Sorry for the unexpected hiatus. School is really just kicking my butt and I probably won't be able to post very often until Winter Break. I hope you guys aren't too mad!**

* * *

Hazel no longer made appointments at the facility. She didn't want to chance being assigned to a different room.

So, every week, she just snuck into Peter's room and watched him practice walking around.

His legs, while she had noticed they were impossibly long and strangely muscular for a man who had been confined to a wheelchair for years, were still a bit wobbly. She would sometimes snake a hand around his waist to steady him.

Heat would over take her cheeks and she would attempt to cover it up with a laugh and a lame joke.

Every time she would get ready to leave, Peter would ask her to keep his secret.

And every time, she would agree.

* * *

Hazel was starting to get worried when she started to see dark rings around her brother's usually chaotically bright eyes.

"Jack-Jack, are you okay?" She asked, resorting to her old nickname for him.

"I'm fine," he grumbled.

"Whatever, you look really sick."

"I said I'm fine."

"Don't be mean." She laughed and grabbed his hand, dragging him into her room. "What's wrong?"

Jackson sighed and turned around, moving the collar of his shirt.

"Jack-Jack," she said, her tone airy. "That looks infected. You should go to the doctor."

"I can't. They'll ask questions. Especially mom and dad."

"I'll cover for you. I'll say you were helping me with my horses and one nipped you. People can get really nasty bites from horses, you know? There. Now you have a cover story."

Jackson smiled but the large, dark rings under his eyes didn't give Hazel any comfort.

"Now, tell me what actually happened." Hazel grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"Some guy, he was really sick or something, came into school and was looking for that McCall kid and he scratched me."

Hazel's nose wrinkled. "Ew. All the more reason for you to go to the hospital. I've been telling you forever that people are gross. They carry diseases and bacteria. Bleck." She stuck her tongue out, trying to make light of the situation.

"Well, I am an athlete, Hazel. I can't just cut off contact with people because you think they're gross. You can hide with your horses and your books but I can't. At least I know how to talk to people that aren't comatose."

Hazel frowned, feeling tears well in the corner of her eyes. "Um, I'm gonna make you an appointment for later this week. I'll have them call your phone instead of mom or dad's. Okay?" She nodded to herself and walked out of her own room.

She didn't hear him say, "Dammit."

* * *

A few days later she spotted him in the school hallway. "Hey. I made you an appointment for Wednesday. You'll miss first period but I know you don't like that class anyway."

"Right, thanks," he mumbled.

"You can thank me later." She was still angry with him. It was childish, she knew that, but she wanted to be angry. She just didn't know why. Regardless, she walked away from him and into her Geography class, taking her usual seat next to Samantha who prattled on and on about how great her date with Holloway went.

She silently watched the clock for the rest of the day, trying to wish the minutes away but finally they came and she was allowed to escape.

"Tell me about Jackson," Peter said after tiring himself out with walks around the room.

"My brother? Well, he's adopted like me. Poor kid lost his parents in this really awful car accident when he was just an infant. He's a good kid if not hilariously arrogant. Um, he's got this girlfriend, Lydia. She's so smart-like Fields Medal smart-but she's dumbing herself down for him for some reason. I have no idea why."

"Haven't you ever wanted to belong?" Peter asked.

"What?"

"Belong. Haven't you ever seen someone or some group and wished you could be like them?"

Hazel thought for a moment, feeling her face scrunch up into her usual I-think-I-know-this-answer scowl. "No, I don't think I have."

Peter was quiet for a moment and Hazel suddenly felt the need to correct herself. Maybe she had felt that need? Maybe?

"I-"

"I guess you're one of the lucky ones, then," he said.

Heat crawled over Hazel's cheeks. She didn't know what to say. It felt as though her tongue had swollen to the point that words were impossible for a few brief seconds.

"Tell me more about Jackson."

She took a breath and continued. "Lydia's really the only person I think who has made a real connection with Jackson. God, he'll never admit it though." They carried on for a few more minutes, Peter asking slightly leading questions and Hazel doing the best that she could to answer them. For a moment, in between facts about Jackson, she wished he would ask about her.

Why?

She didn't know.

Peter breathed deeply and settled himself back onto his wheelchair. "One of the patients had their granddaughter visit them today. She mentioned something about a winter formal. I was wondering if you were going."

"I don't know. I think Samantha is going to go with Holloway and I'm not really a fan of going to those sorts of things without someone to hang on to." She blushed at this. It made her sound desperate even to her own ears.

"I thought you said you didn't want to belong?" Even without looking, Hazel knew he was smirking, pulling at the burned skin.

"I think there's a difference between wanting to belong and not wanting to be solitary. There's a saying about lone wolves-"

"The lone wolf dies but the pack survives, yes. I know the saying." She heard him breathe deeply for a moment and looked over at him. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted against the sun streaming through the blinds. "You should go to the dance. Some people are attracted to lone wolves. I'm sure you won't be alone for long."


End file.
